


Shelter

by 221A_brina



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Added bonus tropelet - only one bed, Banter, F/M, Fluff, No... really, Sleeping Together, Slog & a Snog, Stranded?, URST... for now, What did SHE say?!, What did he say?!, What did they DO?!, Where were they?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 12:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221A_brina/pseuds/221A_brina
Summary: Phryne and Jack are caught in a storm. Fortunately, they come across a shelter in which they weather the storm. Which storm is more treacherous? The one outside or the one within?





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drew Grove](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Drew+Grove).



> From @whopooh's intro to the Collection: "This challenge is to celebrate the success of the Kickstarter about the Miss Fisher movie -- we're in the last days of the campaign, and we hope everyone will get to know about it and contribute to it. (The collection is back, as we've had green lights from EC after some days kerfuffle!)" 
> 
> The challenge is to write a fic where these lines are included:  
> “We need to get warm.” (Jack)  
> “At the South Pole they recommend skin to skin contact…” (Phryne)"  
> ___________________________________________________________________ 
> 
> When Fire_Sign posted her fic "Baby It's Cold Outside" my brain latched onto that trope like a snapping bear trap and wouldn't let me go until this was finished. Here's the result. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Drew & his Crew, and everyone at Every Cloud for their indomitable efforts in tackling the gargantuan project of getting Miss Fisher to the big screen. I take my cloche off to you and I wait in breathless (well... maybe a breath or two – need to still be alive to see it) anticipation of "Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears." (And if by some wild chance of prescience I've anticipated what might happen in the film during this bit of dialog, please don't change it on my account [no, really, please don't]. I'd be simply chuffed if I was thinking along the same lines. *giggle*)

The howling winds whipped around the two figures heading for the shelter in the distance. It was the only thing visible as far as the eye could see, though at the moment, visibility was near to nil. They slowly trudged forward one plodding step at a time, feet unsteady in the shifting terrain.

As she walked, leaning forward, pushing into the swirling air in an attempt to keep from falling backwards, the winds suddenly changed direction, causing her to lose her balance and careen forward, falling to the ground and landing awkwardly. Her companion, who had been following two steps behind, slogged forward to assist her back upright. They exchanged a meaningful look, the noise too loud for normal conversation, let alone trying to shout over it. Her face expressed her frustration at the elements besting her, along with a minute indication of pain, which she immediately tried to cover with a smile, nod, and a pat on his arm which was still holding on to hers. He nodded in acknowledgement, jaw clenching, and released her arm as she steadied herself. She brushed herself off and turned to continue towards the shelter, feet sinking with every step.

The stinging winds continued to bite into her now rosy cheeks. She shifted her face covering, which had dislodged in her fall, and tucked in the scarf back across her mouth and nose and into her collar. He followed suit, pushing down his hat, its brim wildly flapping in the gale force, which was secured under his scarf. Her companion, who's eyes never left her back, stayed within arms-length in case the winds toppled her again.

The ground continued to shift beneath their feet. Their steps increased as they got closer to the shelter in anticipation of getting out of the harrowing weather. The sun was setting and the climate would, no doubt, change, and not necessarily for the better. When they reached the entrance, she reached for the door and grasped the handle trying to pry it outwards. She managed to get a few inches of purchase before the winds sent it slamming back in place. Her companion was standing immediately behind her, and when the wind whipped the door shut, the kickback slammed her into his chest. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her again, then reached forward to pull at the door with her sandwiched between. As the door finally gave way, she added her hands to the side helping to pull it open enough for them to slip inside. Nature lent a hand, finishing the job and shutting it for them.

Once inside, they both stopped and stamped their feet, effectively removing the build-up on their boots. Staying at the entrance they removed their head coverings and shook out their garments leaving the cast-off debris by the door. Inside the shelter, the dulled sound of the storm allowed for conversation, their ears still deafened by nature's fury. They might be stuck here for a while. At least until the weather let up.

They both surveyed the interior of the shelter taking stock of their surroundings. A chair, table, several cushions, a small trunk, a bedroll, and a number of blankets. In one corner there were a few empty tins. It appeared that someone had recently sheltered here, but had obviously moved on, leaving a few supplies for the next traveler who wandered this way.

"We'll have to stay here at least until the winds let up. With visibility at nil, we'd get lost as soon as we left here," she volunteered. "We'd never be able to find our way back to the rest of our party in that."

He nodded in agreement, his partner's assessment completely in line with his thoughts. He wriggled and twisted, shucking off his pack and set it on the chair. He took another look around the interior of the shelter, and approached the small trunk. He bent down to pick it up, and took it over to the table. The lid opened easily, revealing a coffee can, several candles, a fork, knife and spoon, two boxes of matches, several lumps of charcoal, and number of unopened tins containing foodstuffs of some kind. A small stack of newspaper lined the bottom of the trunk.

While he was going over the contents of the trunk, she investigated the rest of the shelter. The floor had some sort of covering on it, possibly rugs or carpeting of some sort, but with no windows in the shelter, it was hard to see clearly. She walked over to the cushions, picking each up, before setting them down. The bedroll unfurled to reveal a narrow makeshift mattress. The blankets were shabby, but functional. This shelter was obviously one that had been much used over the years by travelers happening through this way. The unwritten rule observed by all: use what you needed and leave what you could for the next person stranded here.

He removed a number of the items from the trunk, and set about preparations for settling in for the duration. He pulled out a few pages of newsprint, crumpled them up, and tossed them in the coffee can. He lit a match and tossed it into the can. Once the paper was ablaze, he gently rolled a lump of charcoal down into the can and onto the flames.

"It seems, Miss Fisher, we are not the first to stumble across this shelter, and I'm certain we won't be the last," he said, his voice dry and scratchy, his mouth parched due to the wind.

"No doubt," she replied. "Thank goodness we came across it, or heavens knows where we'd end up in that storm." She walked over to Jack and looked into the trunk. "Though, the place could use a woman's touch," she added as she made a sweeping motion with her hand, then rested her knuckles on her hip.

"I'm sure you'll have the place spruced up in no time, with lines of fans waiting to pay admission just for a glance," he countered, a twinkle in his eyes, and the barest hint of a smile gracing his lips. She shot him a look that made her humorous displeasure known; her eyes squinting, her lips pursed. She harumphed.

They settled in to a companionable silence as they laid out their available supplies from Jack's pack. He handed her one of the water containers. "We'll have ration the water, of course, but I'm sure the storm will subside before we run out. In the meantime if we get some rest, that will cut down on our need to use up our supplies."

"Ever the pragmatist, eh, Jack?" Phryne noted as she arranged the bed roll, cushions, and blankets into the corner opposite the incoming gale force winds.

"War will do that to you, Miss Fisher. A lesson in pragmatism, conservation and survival skills. If one could survive that, those lessons will continue serve you well in life, as I'm sure you're familiar with." He glanced in her direction, continuing, "Though, correct me if I'm wrong... I'm guessing you amassed a number of those skills in your youth, well before joining the fray." His eyes seemed to be looking far off into memory. He paused, blinked, then shook his head to clear the cobwebs.

"Mmmm..." she agreed, her own mind flashing back to her childhood and time in the war. "Well then..." Her voice pitched upwards as she turned to look at him, then towards the sleeping area, and then back at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"With nightfall, the temperatures, no doubt, will drop. We need to get warm," he looked up at her then at the small fire burning in the coffee can, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

“At the South Pole they recommend skin to skin contact...” Phryne quipped back immediately, eyes heavy with suggestion and desire. She let the suggestion hang between them, baiting him. Daring him to respond.

"The Antarctic may be the coldest and driest desert on the planet, Miss Fisher, but I'm fairly certain that we will not be subjected to that drastic a drop in temperature tonight as one might encounter there," he deflected, stony faced save for the slightest upturn at the corner of his mouth. "After all, as we are presently in the **Sahara Desert** , I doubt we will be in such dire straits. I understand it can get down as low as 10°C at night. While not freezing," he waggled his head side to side, "the wide range in daily temperature is enough to lower one's defenses," he parried, daring her.

She sauntered up to him, stopping a hair's breadth from him and threaded her fingers under his lapels, as she was wont to do when trying to inveigle his acquiescence. "Will you be my shelter, Jack? My port in this storm?" Her hands stopped at the top of his lapels and snaked up and around his neck, lightly resting at his collar.

"I don't know if I can be just any port," he tentatively placed his hands over hers, his head lowering, chin landing on his chest, golden lashes fluttering shut.

"But Jack... surely you must know by now..." Her hands gently cupped his cheeks and raised his face to look at her, his cerulean eyes slowly reopening, locking onto the pools of sea green before him.

"Just what is it that I must know, Miss Fisher? As it seems I appear to be woefully uninformed." His brows wrinkled in question, almost flinching in anticipation of her next words, unsure of what she might say.

"You're not just ANY port, Jack. You're..." She struggled for breath and the right words. Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth she bit it, trying to bite back the panicked feeling rising in her throat. She swallowed noticeably and haltingly continued. "You're... my home port, Jack. You're my anchor and mooring line. You keep me grounded whenever I sail off on an adventure. No matter where I roam, or run off to, I'll always return home." Her thumbs traced the flat of his cheeks, her pupils wide and fixed on his, begging him to trust the truth in her words and eyes, saying in euphemism what she couldn't say directly.

"You're not simply throwing me a line just to tie me down and get in my good graces now, are you?" a hesitant smirk began to emerge. "It sounds more like a boomerang, than a ship. As I'm sure that somewhere in there, after you've flown off, I'm bound to receive a blow to the head," _or the heart,_ he thought, "if I'm not cautious... and if previous experience is any indication..." His hands slid down, settling lightly on her waist.

"Don't be like that Jack. I've never hit you over the head. Besides, it was entirely my father's fault. That, and his damned nerve tonic!" Phryne rolled her eyes and half sneered before waggling her head. She insinuated her hands up to his collar again and ran her fingertips through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Now what was that you were saying about tying you down?" Her fingers climbed higher to cup the back of his head and bring his face closer to hers.

"You should be aware, Miss Fisher, that I never issue blanket statements." His hands leisurely slid down to rest on the curve of her bottom, "a man in my position must be concise." The lopsided grin he reserved only for her broke out from his otherwise impassive face as he drew her in tight.

"And, pray tell, what might that position be, especially whilst operating undercover, Inspector?" She purred, dropping a hand down to interlace it with his. She twisted sideways and tugged his along, gradually inching them towards the makeshift sleeping arrangements, his feet mirroring hers in the shuffling steps across the room.

"I think we should huddle and confer. Just to be clear. I think in this particular case, it would be best for me to consult with my partner." His eyes now glinted with mischief. Jack drew his free hand up to run through the silken raven locks settling at the back curve of her head and paused. Their eyes met, his silently asking, and hers answering in the affirmative. He drew her in closer, her eyes still locked on his. When his lips met hers in a gentle kiss, he could feel rather than hear the slight moan that escaped her lips as it vibrated on his, causing a louder moan to issue from him. The kiss deepened, becoming a tangle of tongues, exploring and caressing, until they were both breathless.

"So...” she pulled back slightly, her eyes raking over the chiseled planes of his face. “Do you think your partner is on board with your plan?" She asked slyly, lashes fluttering.

"I think she'd follow me down to the mat," he winked as he hunched down and sat on the thin mattress and started to remove his boots. Once finished his task, he reached up and gently grasped her wrists and tugged her down to him. She followed his example, setting her boots next to his.

Jack aligned his back to the wall of the shelter, and held up the blankets and nodded, indicating to Phryne to tuck in. She lay down, her back to him, suggestively wriggling her bottom up against him as she did so. His hand immediately dropped the blanket and clamped on her hip effectively ceasing her writhing motions. "Time for some shut eye, Miss Fisher, while we let the storm abate."

"And which storm would that be, Jack?" Her voice barely louder than the howling winds outside.

He wrapped the layers of blankets around her, tucking his arm about her waist and pulling her snug against him, curling an ankle over her calves to still the nervous energy emanating from her twitching feet. "Sleep, Phryne. We'll see what the morning brings." He smiled at her double entendre, took a deep breath, breathing in her scent and hair before kissing the back of her head and closing his eyes.

She squeezed his hand in acknowledgement before letting her lids droop closed. Outside, the winds began to die down. As Phryne drifted off to sleep, she thought she'd finally found her safe harbor, feeling secure in the shelter of his arms amidst the raging storm within.

**Author's Note:**

> After writing this I remembered the song "I'll Be Your Shelter" by Taylor Dayne and decided to look up the lyrics. I was utterly delighted to see how perfectly it fit Jack and Phryne AND this particular scenario. I think it speaks to his desire to protect her, (and not overpower/lay claims on her), yet simply have her know that he is there for her in whatever she needs – a friend, love, shelter, someone to bear the brunt of the weather, someone to stand vigil during the night when the doubts, shadows, & nightmares loom large. "A man with a heart as deep as the Pacific Ocean." So... I've included the lyrics here as an added bonus - something to take with you. Enjoy! 
> 
>  
> 
> I'll Be Your Shelter by Taylor Dayne 
> 
> When there's clouds hangin' in the sky  
> And they're just not lettin' any light in  
> And you feel like you'd like to give in  
> Don't you give up so soon 
> 
> What you need is a friend to count on  
> What you got baby you got someone  
> Who will stay when the rain is fallin'  
> And won't let it fall on you 
> 
> I'll see you through, I'll cover you  
> With a love so deep and warm and true  
> I will be there 
> 
> Honey I'll be your shelter  
> I'll be the one to take you through the night  
> Whenever you need shelter  
> I'll make everything alright, make everything alright 
> 
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na 
> 
> I got arms strong enough to hold you  
> Get you through anything you go through  
> Anything that you need you know  
> It's only a touch away 
> 
> When your heart needs a heart beside it  
> Should be mine that's it's keeping time with  
> 'Cause I got so much love inside  
> It beats for you every day 
> 
> I'll be the one to give you love  
> When it seems like there's just not enough  
> Mine will be there 
> 
> Honey I'll be your shelter  
> I'll be the one to take you through the night  
> Whenever you need shelter  
> I'll make everything alright, make everything alright 
> 
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na 
> 
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na 
> 
> I'll be your shelter  
> I'll be your shelter, baby 
> 
> I'll see you through, I'll cover you  
> With a love so deep and warm and true  
> I will be there 
> 
> Honey I'll be your shelter  
> I'll be the one to take you through the night  
> Whenever you need shelter  
> I'll make everything alright, make everything alright 
> 
> And I'll be your shelter  
> I'll be the one to take you through the night  
> Whenever you need shelter  
> I'll make everything alright, make everything alright 
> 
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na  
> Na na na na na na


End file.
